


Sometimes She Cries

by TheSlytherinRose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Lucius is the best husband ever, Miscarriage, lucissa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 05:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5616268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSlytherinRose/pseuds/TheSlytherinRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A loss from a difficult period years ago haunts Narcissa's nightmares, as do the fears it brings to the surface. After so long trying to leave the past buried, she finally allows herself to ask Lucius a difficult question. (TW for discussions of miscarriage. References to previous relationships. One-shot.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes She Cries

A/N: I usually try to avoid mentions of the brief pre-marriage separation that shows up in my canon (because I, like Narcissa and Lucius, have tried to block it from my mind). However, this scene wouldn't leave me alone, so I decided to write it as separate from my other WIPs. The title is from the song by Warrant. -TW for discussions of miscarriage and general angst.- Feedback would be greatly appreciated, please. x  
***

"Could you have loved her?"

For a long moment, there was silence in the master bedroom apart from the thump of Lucius's heart and the movement of his breath and Narcissa's own as she lay with her head resting on his chest and her eyes burning as they strained against the darkness, trying to make sense of the places dim objects blended into one another across the room. Perhaps she should've been more specific with her question, but the words were as elusive as the face she tried to conjure in her mind's eye when she allowed herself to think the name she'd assigned to the 'her' in question. Still, she trusted that Lucius would know what she meant. After several seconds' pause, she felt the hand he'd rested on her waist tighten as he let out a sigh.

"Narcissa... Are we talking about...?"

"If she'd survived, I mean," Narcissa went on, hoping to answer his unfinished question. She knew the subject wasn't one he found easy to discuss, either, and she had begun to feel ill at the thought that she'd allowed her exhaustion-fueled brooding on the past to take verbal form. Normally, she could contain these questions before she could fool herself into believing they were wise to ask aloud. Now, though, it was too late to rescind the words, and she knew she might as well allow the name into the air along with the implication. "Eurydice."

Lucius said nothing immediately. He ran the fingers of the hand not at Narcissa's waist up and back down her arm slowly, and her skin tingled beneath the light touch.

"Is this what you've been having nightmares about?" he asked at last. She tensed slightly, involuntarily. She'd hoped she'd hidden her trouble sleeping at least enough not to bother him, but if he'd noticed, she had done a rather poor job.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I can't stop thinking... I was so worried all the time because I knew I was on the wrong path. I knew I was meant to be with you, but after I hurt you like that, I couldn't imagine you'd ever be able to-"

"Narcissa."

She closed her eyes at last and let out a long breath as the first of her tears broke free and fell onto his chest.

"You know I never stopped loving you. Not for a second."

"I know," she breathed, the words sounding as thin and wispy as a breeze too feeble to stir a single leaf. "Nor I you."

She felt his fingers disappear from her arm, and a moment later, she felt the brush of them running through her hair. She forced several deep breaths into her lungs and out again, and then she forced herself to speak.

"I was so upset because I knew everything was wrong. I shouldn't have been..." With him. But she wouldn't say those words for any payment and dig the pit she'd led herself into any deeper. "...in that situation. I can't stop thinking it was my fault that she..."

"It was not your fault. What have the Healers told you every time we've asked them?" When she did not answer, she felt him shift, and she looked up to find that he'd lifted his head to watch her with what looked in the darkness like a concern-furrowed brow. "Tell me, Cissy."

"That it's a condition I inherited," she muttered. "And Mother forcing me into corsets while I was still growing did nothing to help."

"Which makes the little boy sleeping down the hall what?"

Narcissa sniffed, blinking away her tears rather unsuccessfully. "A miracle."

"Yes. No matter how hard you are on yourself, it will not change the fact that you aren't to blame." Lucius paused. "And to answer your question, yes. Of course I would've loved her. She was part of you. Regardless of everything else, I would've seen that, and I can't imagine any part of you not charming its way past my defenses."

Narcissa closed her eyes tightly and wept. She had no idea how long her shoulders quaked with the sobs she'd trapped within herself for so long with the fear that if the daughter she'd almost had with Augustus had survived, Lucius wouldn't have accepted either of them and Narcissa would've been trapped in a life she'd known even then wasn't the one meant for her. As Lucius held her close, his grasp on her not loosening no matter how long her tears continued, she found herself able to accept at last that she could release this fear. When at last her weeping had stilled, she pressed a kiss to his chest.

"I love you," she whispered. "So much."

"And I love you. I don't want this to worry you anymore, so let me be clear: I would have adopted her, Cissy. And we would still be right here, just as we are, only with two little ones to take to Diagon Alley tomorrow instead of one."

Narcissa leaned upward, unable to express her gratitude and the relief these words sent rolling through her except with a kiss. Lucius laid a hand on her cheek and returned the kiss gently but passionately, the gesture punctuation to his words and assurance that he'd meant them.

When she returned her head to his chest and gradually allowed herself to relax, the sleep that claimed her at last was a peaceful one.


End file.
